


Two Fires

by alltoowheeler



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Other, They're best friends, bffs help each other out and burn their "family"'s shit, brotp: paladin and zoomer, excessive use of the word 'marshmallow', im love them, this is NOT shipping them romantically mkay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 07:20:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13095180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltoowheeler/pseuds/alltoowheeler
Summary: idea from zoomingmayfield on tumblr; mike and max burn the leftover stuff from two people who left their lives.





	Two Fires

May 1985

Max watched from an upstairs window as Billy’s car peeled out of the driveway and down the street. Her stepfather slammed the door below her and swore. Billy’s shouts still rung in her ears. He was gone.

A grin broke over Max’s face. He was gone.

She grabbed her supercom and jumped out her window onto the roof so Neil wouldn’t hear her. Sitting against the house, she pulled out the supercom antenna. “Mike?”

The supercom crackled. “Yeah?”

“Remember that time you promised to help me burn all Billy’s shit if he ever left?”

“Uh huh…”

“You wanna help me burn all his shit?”

“Wait, seriously? He left?”

“Yup,” she smiled.

“You don’t think he’ll come back?”

“They’ve never fought like that before,” she said. “…I don’t think he’ll try it.”

“I’ll be there soon,” he said. She heard his antenna click shut. 

Max stood up and looked out over Hawkins. It felt empty and free. She hesitated a minute, remembering Neil inside, he would hear her– no. Neil could go fuck himself. She let out a whoop into the warm yellow sky. 

He was gone.

“Max!”

She looked up from the comic book she had brought out onto the roof. Mike stood below her on his bike, holding a bag of marshmallows.

“Marshmallows, Wheeler?” she smirked, climbing down from the roof.

He shrugged. “Isn’t this a time for celebration?”

“It sure as hell is,” she said, dragging a garbage bag of Billy’s stuff from behind a wheelbarrow. Earlier she’d scooped anything and everything he’d left in his room into the bag. She dumped it out onto the grass and pulled a matchbook out of her back pocket. 

“Will your stepdad be mad?” Mike asked.

“Nah, he left to go get shitfaced.” She struck the match and tossed it onto the unfinished homework sheets, the skeezy magazines and cologne. Mike held out a marshmallow on a stick and they argued over the merits of burning versus toasting as the paper curled and burned.

“To Billy the Dickhead,” Max declared, raising a flaming marshmallow.

“May he rest in eternal torture,” Mike said, lifting his own torch. “And may he stay the fuck away from here.”

“A-fucking-men.” Max blew out the marshmallow and stuffed it in her mouth. “Ashdnf.” She spit it out. “That’s really hot.”

“I wonder why.” Mike blew on his own marshmallow and ate it, wiping the stickiness from around his mouth. “Ugh. I told you toasting was better.”

“Wimp.” She grabbed another from the bag. “You have to taste the fire!”

“Is that why you spit it out?” She threw the marshmallow at his head. “Okay!” 

They stood there until the sky darkened, working their way through the entire bag of marshmallows as the last of Billy Hargrove faded into smoke.

February 1986

Mike picked up the phone with shaking hands and dialed Max’s number. He stared out the window at the empty driveway as the phone rang. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey.” Mike twisted the phone cord between his fingers. “Um, my dad left. Or my mom kicked him out, actually.”

“Oh my god. Mike–”

“No, it’s fine. Just– can you come over tonight?” 

“Yeah, of course. What do you feel like doing?”

“…Burning things.”

He could practically hear her smile. “Sounds good.”

Mike picked at his green beans with a fork. The remainder of their family sat around the table in silence. Even his mom, who would usually try to break the tension, seemed to understand that would only make it worse tonight.

The doorbell rang. Mike jumped up, happy for an escape. “’Scuse me.”

He ran to the door and opened it. “Hey.” Max stood in front of him, wearing a full backpack. 

“Hey,” she said, looking uncertain. “Um, I brought matches and stuff.”

“Thanks.” He grabbed his coat and they walked quietly through the house and out into the backyard, where Mike had piled some of the stuff his dad had left. Car magazines. Birthday cards from Mike and Nancy. Scribbled drawings from Holly.

“Ready?” Max asked. Mike nodded. Max knelt down and grabbed a match from her backpack. She offered it to Mike; he shook his head. She took a deep breath, struck the match and threw it onto the pile. 

Mike watched the edges of his old drawings curl and blacken. His dad had never said more than very nice, Michael about a single one of them. He’d never said more than that about anything. 

The smoke caught in Mike’s throat and he coughed, tears coming to his eyes. 

“You okay?” Max said.

“Yeah,” he said, more tears escaping.

“Hey,” she said, rubbing his arm. “You’re gonna be okay.”

He nodded, wiping his nose.

She reached into her backpack again and handed him a marshmallow. He smiled faintly and took it. 

They stood in silence in the dim firelight, roasting and sometimes burning the marshmallows. Mike shivered, trying to ignore the empty-feeling house behind him. 

“So,” Max said. “Um, I’m going to California in a few weeks to visit my dad and I was thinking you could go with me. If you want.”

Mike hesitated, his thoughts spinning. 

“I totally understand if you don’t want to, I just–”

“No, I…” He pictured the sunny beach, far away from here. A real dad, even if it wasn’t his own. “I’d love to go, actually.”

“Really?” she asked. He nodded. “Awesome!” She threw an arm around him, almost lighting his hair on fire with her marshmallow. “Shit, sorry.” 

“Are you trying to kill me?” Mike laughed. He looked up. “Hey, look,” He said, pointing at the winter sky. Max looked up from her marshmallow. 

“You can see the stars.”


End file.
